Thunder
by Tvist
Summary: He remembers sitting by the window with Thad, looking out at the sky, and then counting the seconds, waiting for the cracking rumble of thunder, indicating how far away the storm was. TC hates storms. This was inspired by Jordan asking TC if he was okay bacause of the lightning. TC hates storms, it's canon, this is the explanation. TW for PTSD symptoms.


TC wasn't a fan of thunder and lightning. It hadn't always been that way. As a kid he'd been fascinated by it. He remembers sitting by the window with Thad, looking out at the sky, and then counting the seconds, waiting for the cracking rumble of thunder, indicating how far away the storm was.

It was all different after he returned home. Thunder, a car backfiring or a nurse dropping a bedpan at work made his brain think he was back in combat. He would come back to find himself crouching down, with the bitter taste of adrenaline in his mouth, his head filled with the distant sound of gunfire. Sometimes he feels blood on his hands, and he can still see it when he looks down to see what is real or just a hallucination.

Going for a run to try to wind down after his shift at the hospital had become routine but the storm had messed with his head. TC felt like his body was thrumming with energy even if he was bone tired from work and then the run. Sweat was pouring, but he still felt cold, goosebumps forming on his arms, spreading to the rest of his body. Tremors were making it hard to hold the glass of water he was trying to distract himself with.

TC had his back to the window, trying to ignore the storm outside. He didn't know if he could stand one more flashback of Thad dying, of this brother disappearing right in front of him. It was fascinating how his brain could transport him back in time like that. How it could make him feel as if he was right back there, the sounds, the smell even the feeling of Thad's skin growing cold under his hands.

He missed the bright flash, but the loud crack of thunder that followed three seconds later transports him back in time.

The glass slipped from his hands without him knowing it, pieces of glass flying everywhere. TC didn't notice, he was back in the desert, reliving that horrible day. Blood was on his hands and he could feel his heart racing in his chest, which was too tight for him to breathe.

TC didn't notice the deep cut from the glass he stepped on right away. Thad's voice was in his head, asking him why? Why had TC let him die?

He came to himself when the doorbell rang, the sound of it too foreign to be incorporated into TC's hallucination.

Looking down he could see blood, and for a few seconds he thought it was remnants of the flashback, but as the puddle grew under his feet the pain of the cut registered.

"TC! What's going on?" Jordan had used her key and was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

TC didn't have an answer, he looked up from his feet to Jordan, not sure what to say.

"Okay, just…don't move!" Jordan had her hands out, gesturing to him, as if she could make TC stand still from the other side of the room.

"Uh...Jordan? What…" TC looked from Jordan and back down to the floor where the puddle of blood was still expanding. He could feel the slick, slippery warm fluid between his toes, when he tried to move his feet.

Thunder cracked in the distance and he had trouble blocking out the sound of gunfire invading his brain again.

Shaking his head he closed his eyes and tried to stop the cycle of flashbacks that he knew was coming.

"Hey! TC, focus on me, open your eyes," Jordan was coming closer, her shoes protecting her from getting cut by the shards of glass still on the floor.

Her focus was on TC, who seemed to be disoriented; she needed him to stand still so he wouldn't hurt himself more then he already had. She pulled a kitchen chair with her, put it behind TC and tried to get him to sit down.

TC wasn't having it at first; he refused to sit even if she physically pulled on his arm. When he finally complied, he seemed to regain his composure somewhat, and recognizing his surroundings for what they really were, not a warzone, but his own kitchen.

"Jordan? What happened," another flash of lightning made him look out the window.

"You broke a glass and stepped on a shard…" She could see his focus slipping, "TC? Stay here with me." Her hand was on his cheek, turning his head to look at her.

"I…I had a drink of water… when I came… back from running…but the thunder…"

TC's vision blurred and he recognized that tears were running down his cheeks. He had to fight for every breath as his chest was burning. There was a lump growing, making it impossible to get enough air.

"Hey, TC, it's okay. Try to slow your breathing, take a deep breath with me." Jordan's eyes were searching his, in an effort to get him to listen to her directions.

He managed to follow her lead, and panicked feeling slowly faded. Jordan held his head in her hands, making him focus only on her.

After a while her hands became less insisting, loosening their hold on him.

"Good, you're doing well. I'm going to have a look at your foot; it's still bleeding so I'm guessing it needs stiches." Jordan was treating him so careful, as if he was a wounded and scared animal.

TC was starting to feel a bit foolish.

Jordan lifted his leg, taking a look at the damage. TC tried to stay in the moment, and not slip back into the abyss of terror.

"TC, I need to get out lying down, this needs stitches and there's still glass embedded in there. We should go to the ER, I can fix you up better there."

"No, no I don't need that. I have a suture kit in case of emergencies, you can do it here." TC really didn't want to face his coworkers or anyone else at the moment.

He could see Jordan thinking about her options, and when she agreed to his plan, he released the breath he'd been holding. Relieved that he could stay home to lick his wounds in private, he did his best not to crush Jordan with his weight, as she helped him hobble into the bedroom.

"Lie down; I'll go get my med kit from the car, I have some lidocaine in there, you'll need it…I'll be back in a minute." Jordan was looking at him with a clinical look, assessing him. Pushing on his shoulders, leaning over him, he had no choice but do as she wanted.

TC didn't want to lie down, there was still a nervous energy making it hard to relax, to keep still. This was what his run was supposed to fix when he was ambushed by the weather.

"TC? Did you hear me?"

He nodded, not sure if his voice would be steady, he tried to give her a reassuring smile, to calm her down, as he could see she was getting worried about his state of mind.

"Yeah, I heard you. Go, I'll be fine."

She was only gone a few minutes. TC could hear the door when she came back in, her footsteps as she came back to his bedroom. His arms crossed, covering his eyes he tracked her moving around the room by sound. She went into his bathroom; he could hear the tap running. Coming back she sat down on the bed beside his hip.

"TC, you need rest, and removing the glass and stitching the cut will hurt."

TC didn't want to look at her, he knew what was coming and he didn't want it.

"I want you to have a small dose of Lorazepam and some Vicodin; I'll give you a local as well…"

He really didn't want it, he hated taking medication, letting go of what little control he had was difficult.

"I'll stay, you can get some rest and sleep, you'll feel better, I promise TC:" She was pulling on one of his arms, trying to make him look at her.

Jordan knew he would relent; he was still shook up by the flashbacks, so he was still vulnerable and not able to resist her. TC removed his arm, looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds; then he lifted his head and accepted the pills and the water.

TC lay back; put his arms over his eyes again as Jordan started to work on numbing the area where glass was embedded in his foot. He hissed a few times before the anesthetic started to work.

After fifteen minutes of removing glass and stitching, Jordan could see the shift in his body as the medication kicked in. The tension draining out of his body, his arms falling away from his face, his breathing evening out.

Bandaging TC's foot and cleaning up after herself, she kept a close eye on him, in case any nightmares would crop up and disturb his sleep.

They'd done this before, TC crashing and Jordan picking up the pieces. He usually slept quietly with the benzos in system. She slipped under the covers beside him, pulling a blanket over his sleeping form. Staying close by in case he would need her. At least that's what she told herself.

AN: thanks for reading. I've been mainlining all four seasons of the Night Shift, and completely fallen for the TC character. So broken, so vulerable, and so strong and capable at the same time. I love hurt/comfort and angst so that's my flavor when I write as well as read.

Sorry for the babbeling! but it's so quiet in here;-)


End file.
